Just to see you again... (Closed)

The lithe tabby raced through ShadowClan territory and soon came across the Thunderpath. She didn't stop or even check if anything was coming. She hadn't needed to, fortunately, but she wasn't fully focused on anything but the news she had to tell. The medicine cat had known before she did. Usually the two lovers met in the tunnels, at the same time every day, but the she-cat wanted to intercept Kestrelstorm on his way over. If she had stopped in the tunnels, they would not be getting any closer as quickly as she wanted to. The hard ground of WindClan territory was not at all like the ShadowClan marshland. Tigerstorm had even stumbled into a few holes in the ground, but other than those few mishaps she was racing along almost like a WindClan cat herself. It seemed that she was built for chasing the things she loved. If only she was more aware of her surroundings. This sort of thing had happened once before, after all. It could have ended badly if it hadn't been for love. Hopefully love could solve the pair's problems again.

She had traveled far to try and steak out some of the clan's territories. Soon, the Alignment would need kits to raise as their own. She would be the one stealing them, so Marxism needed to know the ins-and-outs. As the skinny red she-cat slipped through the bushes, her kinked tail brushing against the brush in an unfavorable way, she spotted a brown tabbied she-cat racing towards her direction. Her heart pounded. In fear? Excitement. With an unhesitating yowl, the rogue flew towards the assumed warrior, teeth barred and eyes glowing angrily.

Tigerstorm shrieked in shock, yet again taken by surprise in another clan's territory. She thought that the enemy was a WindClan cat for a heartbeat, but the crashing scent of rogue told her otherwise. What in the name of StarClan is a rogue doing so deep in the territory? Rang the one thought in her mind before instinct took over, oblivious to the irony that she, a ShadowClan cat, also did not belong here. The queen slashed in a flurry of claws as hard as she could, occasionally catching patches of fur and skin but missing for the most part. Her first desire was to protect her unborn kits. Her second desire was to escape with her life. Her third and final desire was to see Kestrelstorm, muscles rippling and fur shaking in the wind, cresting a hill and coming to her rescue. Ah, if only... Tigerstorm didn't have time to daydream. She continued her flurry of claws, kicking and hissing in an attempt to escape her attacker. She would have used the training Ketsrelstorm gave her, but she was rather weighed down with kits at the moment.

Marxism screeched with fury and rage as the clan cat slashed her. Kicking heavily into her belly, the rogue managed to gain a slight second of an advantage, pinning the she cat down and in one swift movement, had her teeth to the she-cat's throat. Biting down, she began to feel the blood gish into her mouth.

The night was... it just was. Kestrelstorm was numb with loneliness. He had not seen Tigerstorm in quite some time, it felt. She had not been there at their meeting place today. His long legs glided over the ground as if he ran on clouds. Each blade of grass was his and his only, as it was only him and StarClan. Horrible screeching broke the tranquility of the lonesome run and soon the tang of blood and... ShadowClan hit his muzzle. It was too clouded with the foul stank of blood to tell but they were on his territory. His. His. With a flash Kestrelstorm raced down the hills and over another crest to find two figures at the bottom. It was too dark to see, but it looked like one was being pinned down. Without hesitating, Kestrelstorm took off. Marxism had no time to react as he hit her like a tank, knocking her off Tigerstorm. As he spun around, the wounded cat was recognizable. "Tigerstorm!" he cried before spinning around.

The rage he was named after settled into his heart and his eyes narrowed to a tunnel. The red she cat was his. Done. Dead. With a growl like thunder, the tall tom was a swirl of fur as he spun around the she-cat, slicing and disorientating her. Marxism spun and spun, unable to catch a good land on the tom. Without a sound, the WindClan warrior lept, grasping Marxism's neck and dragging her to the ground. He thrashed his head to the side, lifting the way smaller she-cat and tossing her around like a rag doll -- to him, at least. In reality, Marxism dragged back and forth, the tom's fangs sinking deeper with every movement. Desperate, she grabbed onto the rock but the force of his motion with the friction of her grasp caused a loud crack to split through the air. The rouge went limp and Kestrelstorm released, heaving with effort.

She gasped as the heavy blow landed on her stomach, leaving her completely defenseless when the rogue's teeth met her throat. This is the end! was the only thought that was coherent in her mind. The pain was intense. Tigerstorm tried to flail wildly, but even then she felt her strength starting to fail her and a new wave of fear filled her to the brim. She thought about her clan, her siblings, and the family she wanted to have in the future. Just when the tabby thought she'd never get to name her kits, the pressure on her throat was released. Tigerstorm flipped and gasped for air heavily, watching with wide eyes as blood dripped down her chest. Then she remembered that their was an enemy nearby, and by the time she'd whipped her head around to look, the stranger was dead and her mate was there, standing over his victim like a gift from StarClan. She heaved herself to her paws, forgetting about the wound in her throat, and meowed in a hoarse tone, "Kestrelstorm! Oh, Kestrelstorm, I just wanted to see you, and I was running over to tell you something and I was so caught up that I didn't look around me, and I was just running and not paying attention and then there was this crazy cat...!" Tigerstorm trailed off. The blood welling up in her mouth was making it hard to speak clearly and the pain from the bite mark was extremely uncomfortable. She moved to rub against his side, her eyes closing. "Please... don't be upset..." She said with difficulty, "...but I'm carrying... your kits..."

Kestrelstorm's mind whirred with buzzes and whines of fury and stress. He stood motionless against Tigerstorm, breathing heavy. Eventually, he was back to normal. He said nothing for a while. Tigerstorm had his kits? What would that mean for him? For Falconstone? Eventually he opened his mouth, but no words came out. He searched Tigerstorm's eyes, checked her wounds over. "Then there's no time to waste." he said eventually, slowly. "I hope Thrushstar will have me." It was almost a whisper. He couldn't really meet her eyes.